


What the eye sees, John/Dean, NC-17

by meus_venator



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dubious Consent, Fingering, Incest, Rimming, Very Dark!fic, Voyeur! Sam, daddycest, dark!fic, evil!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:37:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1690253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meus_venator/pseuds/meus_venator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is finding it hard to sleep, then Dad and Dean come home and it gets even harder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the eye sees, John/Dean, NC-17

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alexa_dean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexa_dean/gifts).



> Written for [](http://skeletncloset.livejournal.com/profile)  
> [ **skeletncloset** ](http://skeletncloset.livejournal.com/) alexa_dean on AO3

**Title:** What the eye sees  
 **Author:** [](http://meus-venator.livejournal.com/profile)**meus_venator**  
 **Beta:** **fufaraw**  
 **Pairing:** Dean/John  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Word-count:** 3,200  
 **Summary:** Sam is finding it hard to sleep, then Dad and Dean come home and it gets even harder.

 **Warnings:** Voyeur! Sam, Daddycest. Rimming, and fingering, possible dub-con. Prohibited love. evil!Sam

 **Notes:** Written for  
[ **skeletncloset** ](http://skeletncloset.livejournal.com/) as a very belated birthday present, she asked for Voyeur!Sam. I hope you like hon.  
 **Disclaimer:** Supernatural is the property of the CW, I only play with their characters for fun

: : :

Sam's feet roamed restlessly over the scratchy hotel sheets. With an exasperated sigh he flopped over on his side, but couldn't seem to find a comfortable position. The old metal bedsprings protested loudly as he returned to his back and scratched absently at his balls. He hitched his sleep pants down and palmed his cock. He briefly debated whether a quick jerk off session would finally push him over the edge and let him fall asleep. His cock twitched in ready agreement, but then at seventeen, there weren't too many times Sam's cock wasn't ready to go. Especially with Dean and Dad not back yet from their hunt, it was one of the rare occasions he had the room to himself.

Nothing worse than thinking he was safe to tug one off, only to have Dean barge into the room and find him. Most of the time, Dean didn't seem to care if Sam caught him jacking off under the sheets, but when the tables were turned, Sam experienced a veritable rain of catcalls – did Sammy-boy need some help? – or Dean quizzing him if he even knew what to do with that thing.

Unconsciously, at the thought of his aggravating brother, Sam had already started to strip his large hand up and down his cock. It was bigger in his hand than it used to be, more like what he'd seen Dean packing, on the few occasions when tissues and sheets had gone flying and Dean stomped off into the bathroom. But then everything about Sam was bigger these days than it used to be. He'd filled out a lot the last few months, and shot up another three inches. It was rather satisfying for Dean to have to tip his pretty, pretty green eyes _up_ to look at Sam, now.

Sam rolled his balls in his hand and groaned. When had he started to notice that his brother had pretty green eyes? Or long lashes that fanned out over his freckled cheeks, or the guttural moan Dean made when he was close, his calloused hunter's hands stoking his flesh just right.

Sam licked his lips and squeezed his cock just short of painful while his other hand pinched at his nipples. He'd seen Dean do that on more than one occasion, Dean's pretty nipples pebbling quickly as his hand fluttered over his pale, smooth chest.

Sam groaned in the musty, windowless bedroom and imagined he was pinching at Dean's tits instead of his own. Sam's hips bucked, pushing his cock up into his hands, as the bed squeaked loudly. His cock rapidly fattened in his hand, and Sam closed his eyes, trying to imagine it was Dean's warm embrace clutching around him, instead of Sam's own large, sweaty fingers.

The sound of a key fumbling in the motel room door had Sam biting back a curse and scrambling to roll to his belly. He pressed his throbbing erection against the scratchy sheets his heart racing at the thought of discovery. He debated whether he had time to rub one off before Dean entered the room.

His ears perked as the front door swung open, and Dean and their dad walked into the main living room – kitchen of their little motel suite. Post-hunt, the men were usually tired, but still too amped up on adrenaline to sleep. If they weren't injured in the hunt, maybe they'd have stopped at a local bar and had a beer or two before coming home. Flush with success, his father wouldn't usually stop at one, and there'd been plenty of times he'd seen Dean practically carry their old man home to dump him unceremoniously in his bed, before finding his own. Tonight, at least from the sounds of their quiet murmurs, John wasn't as drunk as usual, which usually meant one or the other rooting around for another beer at the little kitchenette, and maybe they'd watch some tube before finding their beds.

Sam exhaled raggedly and forced himself to stop the slow rub of his hips against the sheets. He didn't want the small enclosed space to reek of come when Dean entered – that was a sure way to guarantee hours of ribbing from his older brother. No, he'd have to suck it up and wait until morning, and jack off in the shower, as usual.

Sam lay there listening to the homely sounds of the duffels being tossed in the corner of the living room, and coats being tossed onto a chair. Sam could imagine his father patting Dean on the back, the soft glow of pride in his eyes as he looked at his boy. Sam never seemed to elicit that kind of look from their father. It seemed like most of the time they were too busy arguing to really enjoy each other's company. Sam's mind wandered to the first time he'd butted heads with his father. They had only been in the town of Frazer's Mills for a little over three months, but Sam had settled in nicely. He'd made friends, done well in school. Then their dad had arrived home drunk, raving about a lead he'd heard about, and demanding the boys pack immediately. At age nine, Sam had had enough, and when Dean scrambled to obey, Sam had stood in the middle of the room, his arms crossed resolutely. "No dad, we're not moving, it's only a month till school ends. Can't we stay till then?”

He remembered the look of drunken rage on his father's face as his large hand snapped out to connect with Sam's face. The blow had sent him reeling, the imprint of his father's hand vivid on his skin. Only Dean's intervention, standing between them, had stopped his father from doing more to Sam where he lay slumped against the room's tacky wallpaper.

Sam's erection flagged as rage poured through him, and he had to work to swallow it down. A soft shuffling sound and a soft, hurt grunt snapped him out of his reverie. He swung his head toward the door, and listened closer. Icy fingers of fear clutched round his heart at the thought of Dean or his father hurt or wounded beyond the door. He leapt from the bed and pulled open his bedroom door.

He stood there a moment as the image before him burned itself into his mind. The soft sounds were coming from his brother's plush lips as he lay bent over the back of the dilapidated sofa. From the dim light of the television, Sam had a clear view of the sofa from the side. He could see his father, chest bare, stripped down to his jeans and standing behind Dean. His father looked sober for once. His head tilted as he gazed down at his son, his hand resting in a proprietary way on Dean's back. Dean rolled his hips, and whimpered. The flickering light from the television made strange patterns across Dean’s naked body.

Gulping in a breath Sam quickly eased the door shut before his father looked up and saw him there in full view. His heart thundered in his chest. Dad! Dean! He couldn't force himself to close the door completely. Even though he felt guilty about it, he did it anyway. He stepped up and put his eye to the narrow crack.

His father's lips curled into a strangely sad smile as he rubbed Dean's back, dimples appearing in the salt and pepper beard. Sam's hand reached up to touch his own cheeks, suddenly struck by the similarities between them. He had his father's height, and breadth of shoulders, his darker coloring, while Dean, he'd been told, favored their mother, Mary. Sam only had a small faded portrait of his mother to measure the truth of this by, but Dean's softer, paler features, and the golden highlights in his hair and more delicate bone structure certainly pointed to their mom. There was nothing delicate about John Winchester. Long blunt fingers, muscular build, and square jaw, John was a formidable presence.

The sharp slap of John's hand as it contacted Dean's ass was like a gunshot in the room, and Sam jerked back in surprise.

“Quiet boy, you know what's comin' next. Hush now.”

John stepped over to the duffel he'd tossed in the corner, and rifled through it. He returned with a small bottle of lube. The wet squelch of the lube on his hand had Sam rubbing his legs together, his own cock chubbing. John ran a hand down the knobs of Dean's spine, while his other slid between Dean's cheeks, down his crease, and rubbed gently over his hole.

Dean moaned indistinctly, and Sam peered through the shadows. He was startled to realize that there was something in Dean's mouth – a dark ball, with black straps that cut into the sides of Dean's face. Sam's cock jerked in his hand, fully hard now, and he grasped it more tightly, rolling his hand over the weeping head and running his slick-wet hands down its length. The sight of his brother gagged and bent over like this had him close to coming all by itself.

Dean jerked forward, a harsh grunt coming from behind the gag as John pressed inside Dean's entrance.

“Humfpht…”

"So tight baby, didn't expect you to be so tight. With all your slutting around over the years, you're telling me you never took it up the ass for anybody? I guess that means dear old dad will be the first. Don't worry baby, I'll be gentle with you.” John looked away for a moment and Sam could see his jaw working. When his head swung back, his voice cracked a little as he ordered, "Bring your hands around, I want you to hold yourself open for me, baby boy.”

Dean's hands trembled as he released the death grip he'd had on the back of the sofa.

"'S okay boy, I'll make it good.”

Sam watched as his father slid to one knee and buried his face in Dean's ass. Dean's hips jolted forward, smashing into the back of the sofa, and John raised his head. "Be still, boy. Don't make me cuff you.”

One of John's large hands clamped down on one of Dean's and Sam could imagine the bruises in Dean’s cringing flesh. Air wheezed in and out of Dean’s flared nostrils, his hips jerking as he struggled to stop moving. Sam could see the almost full body shiver as John again buried his head in Dean's ass. Sam winced in sympathy. He could imagine the rough scape of John’s beard on Dean’s skin, the red burn it would leave on Dean’s tender flesh.

Wet, loud slurping started as John licked and sucked at Dean's hole, his tongue jabbing in and out of Dean's entrance over and over again.

Dean writhed beneath him, and John reached in between Dean's body and the back of the sofa with his lube-coated hand to take hold of Dean's flaccid cock. Dean whined as John tugged at his cock, John's tongue jackhammering in and out of Dean's hole. Sam could see the wet sheen of lube on the cheeks of Dean's ass, and the sides of John's face. It both sickened and thrilled Sam, as the slick, wet sounds built.

Sam saw that John's hand was having its desired effect and, in spite of himself, Dean's cock was slowly fattening. Dean's hands trembled, but they stayed where John had ordered. Sam shook his head, snorting derisively. Ever daddy's good little soldier, Dean would do exactly what daddy told him.

Sam's cock curved hard and leaking up toward his belly, and Sam's fingers returned to rubbing at his balls, rolling them slowly through his hands. Sam bit back a groan of pleasure, his gaze riveted on the scene unfolding before him.

With a final wet lick up the crack of Dean's ass, John rose to his feet and, hands trembling, thumbed open his jeans as he looked down at Dean. The clicks of his zipper as he tugged his fly open seemed to fill the room. John pulled down his briefs and jeans enough to pull his hard cock out. He stood a moment, cock bobbing in front of him. He ran his hand along Dean's flank, whispering, "Gonna be okay boy, I'll take care of you.”

A few strokes of his hand along his own cock, and John was positioning himself behind Dean, lining up with Dean's hole. Dean gave a full-body shudder as John nudged the blunt head of his cock against Dean's hole. Dean broke and started to struggle, his hands flailing madly, but John grimly grabbed Dean’s hands and pressed them into the small of his back as he shoved inside.

Dean's body lurched, and Sam watched as Dean's eyes grew wide and wild with pain, his whole body straining to get away from the dick that suddenly impaled him.

Sam started to stroke himself. He knew it was wrong, but the sight of his father violating his brother so brutally had him diamond hard. He could imagine sinking into Dean's tight hole, the feel of his brother's flesh clutching and rippling around his dick.

Buried fully inside his son, John paused for a moment and leaned down over Dean, blanketing the smaller body with his own as he whispered in Dean’s ear. Dean continued to quiver, but Sam could see the muscles starting to relax as he got used to his father's presence deep inside him. Dean’s cock had gone soft again between his legs.

"Such a good boy for me, Dean. Gonna make it good for you, sweetheart. It may hurt a bit at first, but daddy's gonna make it good. Ready for me, baby?” John pressed small kisses along Dean's freckled shoulders, using his free hand to rub along Dean's chest and pinch and twist at his boy's nipples.

Sam squirmed, he didn't want to come too soon. Wanted to be there for the end. He squeezed the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm and returned again to rolling his balls in his hand. His other hand mirrored John's as it plucked and pulled at the small nubs of his nipples until they hardened beneath his fingers. Sam’s eyes squeezed tight as sparks roared through him He bit at his lip to keep from moaning out loud.

John straightened and took Dean's fisted hands from the small of his back and placed them on either side of the sofa back. Keep 'em here, boy, until I say otherwise.”

Weakly, all fight seemingly knocked out of him, Dean nodded and grasped at the prickly fabric.

With his hands on Dean's hips, John pulled back, almost to the tip, and then plunged back in. Dean jolted forward, and Sam was sure his mouth would have been as wide open with shock as his eyes were, if the gag wasn't there. Sam suddenly wished the gag was gone and he could hear the music of his brother's pain.

As though he'd heard Sam's thought, John reached forward and roughly loosened the gag, all the while staying buried deep inside his son. With the gag off, John set up a brutal pace, thrusting in and out of Dean's body. Sam watched as Dean swallowed repeatedly, closing his eyes as John thrust in again and again. Harsh grunts were punched out of Dean as his father jackhammered into him. Then John changed his angle, and Dean's eyes went wide with surprise, a shocked hitch of breath as John brushed over his prostate.

Sam watched, a wide, cruel smile filling his face as John brushed again and again over that sparking spot inside Dean.

Dean mewled,, breathless, “Dad, God, Dad!”

Dean's cock began to fatten again, pressed down, and pointing toward the floor. John's hand left Dean's bruised hip to reach around and stroke his son’s length roughly, John's thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his orgasm.

Dean whimpered, close himself, and Sam's hand finally returned to stroking his own cock. They would all come at the same time. Sam's eyes narrowed, an evil smile spreading across his face as Dean gasped, “Dad… I'm gonna…”

“Come for me, Dean, “ Sam whispered, and his brother's snapped back, Dean staring blindly at the ceiling as he screamed.

John moaned as he shot his load deep inside Dean. His knees buckled, and he had to grab at Dean's hips to steady himself. Dean continued to shoot ropey lengths of come against the back of the sofa and the floor. Dean sagged weakly over the sofa, his knees buckling in shock.

Sam's own orgasm almost took him by surprise as his cock jerked, and come filled his hand, and splattered over his chest.

Sam threw back his head and roared.

When Sam strode into the living room, his sleep pants morphing into the full white suit he favored when in he was in his play room. John’s clothing disappeared and, now naked, come and slick still covering his dick, he fell weakly to his knees. Sam patted his head absently with one hand while Dean whimpered still leaning over the now pristine white sofa. Sam thrust his other, jizz covered hand under Dean's face and, with a weak shudder, his brother obligingly licked at Sam’s fingers.

“Good boy, learning so quickly.” Sam cooed.

John stared up at him, a weak, defeated look on his face “We did what you wanted Sam, now leave us go. This is wrong, son. The power — it’s twisting you, turning you into something you’re not.”

Sam waved his hand dismissively, and John was flung up against the wall held there in place. The cheap wood paneling blurred for a moment then morphed into the pristine white landscape of Sam’s personal domain.

"I give you the honor of breaking Dean in, and this is how you speak to me? Silence!" Sam roared, and John's protests were abruptly cut off. His father continued to struggle weakly, his lips moving, but no sound issued forth.

Sam turned his head in time to see Dean stagger weakly to his feet. "Sam, Sammy, please. Let Dad go. Can't you see how wrong this is, Sam? This isn't you, it's these powers, you've got to let Dad and me help you, get them under control. This has to end.”

Sam sneered and grabbed Dean by the chin, lifting his head up toward him. Sam watched as tears started to trickle from Dean's pain-glazed eyes.

"Oh no Dean, I'm just getting started.” Sam's cock filled instantly, pressing against Dean's thigh, and he had just enough time to see his brother's eyes widen with fear as Sam let his eyes show their new color, and his mouth descended on Dean's in a brutal kiss.

FIN

**Comments Immensely appreciated no matter when you read this story. ^^**

Fic writers work for comments and I'd like to at least make minimum wage : )


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